


The Weekend

by grizzly_bear_bane



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Arguing, Established Relationship, It is impossible to bluff Eames, M/M, Porn With Plot, Possessive Sex, Prompt Fill, Sleepy Sex, Unexpected Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 06:33:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1541111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grizzly_bear_bane/pseuds/grizzly_bear_bane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames and Arthur have been fighting for a week, but a surprise in the middle of the night changes that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt meme request that I really enjoyed writing, so I've posted it here.

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They’ve been fighting all week. If you ask them why, chances are, they don’t even remember. It could be any number of things, spanning months, perhaps. Doesn’t matter. What’s important is that, when angry, Eames shuts down and Arthur can’t shut his mouth fast enough. Even their roommates are offended into silence once Arthur’s run out of insults.

The flat is quiet save for Arthur’s stomping and shelf slamming, the dishes in the sink clattering together dangerously.

Ariadne is the first to find her voice. “Hey,” she says with care to Eames’ back as he dries the dishes beside Arthur, “we’re going to go catch a movie with Dom and Mal, so… we’ll see you guys later?” They won’t. Her and Yusuf always have a duffle bag ready in the trunk of Yusuf’s van, ready to crash at Mal and Dom’s place during such tense weekends.

“Mhm,” is all Eames gives her, his voice a little rough after his pack of cigarettes.

The second the door closes, Arthur turns off the water and looks at Eames. “I’m going back to Atlanta in the morning.”

Eames places the dish down slowly. “So that’s it, then?”

“Yup. I’m calling Robert tomorrow morning to pick me up.” With this statement, another fight breaks out between them.

By the time it’s over, Arthur’s voice is gone and they’re both so exhausted that they’re asleep as soon as their heads touch their pillows.

It’s surprising, then, that they manage to wake up at all once they feel themselves grinding their erections against each other in the middle of the night.

Arthur moans, still mostly drifting, when he buries his face in Eames’ neck. It’s a weak, little gravelly sound, nothing like his yelling earlier. It makes Eames’ cock twitch.

Eames doesn’t know when he fell back asleep but when he blinks, his hands have Arthur’s thin briefs pushed down, his hands kneading Arthur’s ass.

Arthur startles away suddenly and groans, turning away as much as he can, but even half asleep, Eames never feels Arthur’s lower half move away from his massaging hands.

“Go away, Eames,” Arthur slurs, his eyes closed. “I don’t like you anymore.”

Eames slides a little on top of him, dozing with his head on Arthur’s pillow. “Liar,” he whispers after a while, making a point to stroke Arthur’s cock, earning a sleepy moan and a minuscule jerk from Arthur’s hips.

Arthur’s still turned mostly away from him. The arm he’s got thrown over his face moves, drifting, and searches down his stomach to find Eames’ hand, perhaps intent to push it away, but all he manages to find is Eames’ own hard cock. He gives it several tugs as if he can get it inside him just like that.

Eames rolls more on top of him. They’re fast asleep again in minutes. Dreaming. Arthur rocks his hips into Eames’ stomach, his cock leaking on Eames’ t-shirt. Eames’ hand dives roughly between Arthur’s splayed legs, trying to push a finger inside him.

Arthur groans awake and unhappy. He shoves Eames until the man’s awake as well. They glare blurrily at each other in the moonlight coming in through the windows.

After a while, Eames rubs his face and mutters, “I was having a dream that you weren’t a wanker. I was about to fuck you too, until you woke my up. Asshole.”

Arthur pushes his messy hair from his face. “Do it.”

Eames’ brow rises. “Yeah?”

Arthur sighs against the pillow. “Please.”

Eames gets up on his elbows and grabs Arthur’s leg under the covers to drag him underneath him. His kiss is possessive, but Arthur’s is smoldering, even as they both grow clumsy in their attempts to stay awake and free Arthur’s legs from his underwear without moving their hips.

Eames gives up trying to get his brain to work and rips the briefs open, the band snapping Arthur’s hip like a whip. He bites Eames’ lip in retaliation, but he softens a little when Eames bucks against him, reminding him that, at least for now, their fight’s on hold.

Arthur agrees by bucking back. His kisses down Eames’ stubble-covered neck are slow, sloppy, as Eames reaches for the lube under his pillow. Eames feels like sleep’s going to take him again and for a second, he thinks Arthur’s already gone, but once Eames’ hand dips between his legs again, this time blessedly slick, they both moan to each other, unable to vocalize that they refuse to fall asleep again.

Only, they get pretty close, dozing off for minutes at a time with Eames’ fingers still inside Arthur.

Arthur uses what energy he has to slide his hand down between them. Lazily he strokes Eames a few times as Eames snores. He tries to guide Eames’ cock inside him before remembering to move Eames’ big hand aside.

They both moan again, far more awake now than they’ve been this whole time as the friction and stretch send sparks of pleasure through them. Eames manages to prop himself up on his elbows again once he’s positioned fully on top of Arthur. He thrusts slow, feeling Arthur twitch and relax around him in waves of consciousness and sleep until the only way Eames can tell that Arthur isn’t gone is the squeeze he feels every now and then when Arthur rocks his hips up.

Arthur doesn’t even try to get his limbs working. It surprises them both, perhaps, how erotic it is to fuck like this. Arthur’s more asleep than not. At times when Eames’ hips stop moving, he’s sure that Eames is suffering from the same, until Eames starts to thrust a little faster, a little harder, his lips covering Arthur’s.

“No,” Arthur groans, turning his face away.

“I can’t kiss you anymore?”

Arthur gasps as Eames’ stubble scratches his neck. “No. I don’t like you anymore.”

“That’s not what your ass is telling me, darling.”

"I could be dreaming about Robert instead of you right now." He’s not, but Eames’ anger is worth the lie.

Eames thrusts into him one time, hard enough to make the headboard thud and Arthur wince. Eames stills his hips. Arthur wreathes under him as Eames whispers against his lips. “Tell me, Arthur, when he fucks you, how deep can you feel him?”

"Fuck you, Eames," he moans rocking his hips to get Eames to keep fucking.

Eames smirks. “Tell me,” he whispers again. “How far can his cock kiss you?” He slides in only half way. “This far?”

Arthur whines in frustration, giving him an answer at last. “No,” he grits out, hating how impossible it is to bluff with Eames.

"Exactly. He can’t fuck you this deep, can he?"

"Oh god!” Arthur bites his lip, completely awake. His hands dig into Eames’ back under his shirt, his legs rising to lock around Eames’ waist. “Nobody can."

“And you love it don’t you?”

Arthur nods. “I love you. I’m sorry, Mr. Eames.” He’s hushed by Eames’ lips again, moaning when Eames grips the headboard behind him to keep fucking him hard, crushing his hips, easing up only when Eames comes. He takes Arthur’s cock and strokes him a few times, still thrusting, until Arthur comes harder than he has in a long time, Eames’ name on his lips all the while.

They wake up the next morning still tangled together. Eames’ cock slips free when he stretches, soft and wet and missing Arthur already.

They stare bleary-eyed at each other until little grins tug at their lips. They drift back, waking for good in the afternoon.

Needless to say, Arthur never calls Robert.

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**End.**

**Author's Note:**

> grizzly-bear-bane.tumblr.com


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